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ROSEMARY   PRESS   BROCHURES 


ANACREON  AND  OMAR  KHAYYAM 

By  Henry  Harmon  Chamberlin 


Read  before  Omar  Khayyam  Club  of  America 
April  2,  1921 


>osemarv 
Press 


Privately  printed  for  the  uae  of  the  members  of  the 
OMAR  KHAYYAM  CLUB  OF  AMERICA 


?H  3  S65 


Copyright    1921 
by  Rosemaiy  Frees. 


The  survival  of  the  fittest  is  a  potent  catch-word.  But  it  has 
more  sound  than  sense.  How  little  it  means,  we  can  realize  when 
we  reflect  that  we  have  lost  the  poems  of  Sappho  and  Anacreon, 
while  retaining  their  inferior  imitations  in  the  pages  of  Horace  and 
Catullus.  Lesbia's  sparrow  still  chirps  but  the  song  of  the  Lesbian 
swan  is  heard  no  more.  The  prettiest  of  the  Latin  remains;  the 
great  Greek  originals  have  perished.  Their  immortality  was  con- 
ditioned, not  by  the  genius  that  inspired  them,  but  by  the  prejudice 
and  bigotry  of  succeeding  generations. 

Between  380  and  390  A.  D.,  so  we  are  told,  the  works  of  Sappho 
and  other  lyric  poets  were  burned  at  Rome  and  at  Alexandria ;  and 
the  public  of  the  Roman  world  was  advised  to  read  instead  the 
respectable  effusions  of  St.  Gregory  Nazianus.  Among  the  works 
of  genius  thus  abolished  were  the  poems  of  Anacreon,  whose  name 
has  thus  outlived  his  work.  His  poetry  survives  only  in  a  few 
scattered  fragments,  quoted  by  theologians  and  grammarians,  but 
the  beauty  of  such  lines  as  remain  indicate  the  magnitude  of  the 
evil  which  intolerance  may  inflict  on  civilization. 

One  of  the  fragments  of  Anacreon,  together  with  certain  com- 
ments on  his  work  from  the  Greek  Anthology,  I  bring  forward  this 
afternoon  for  your  consideration.  These  excerpts  appear  to  me  to 
have  had  some  influence,  if  not  on  the  original  rubaiyat  of  Omar, 
at  least  on  FitzGerald's  translation. 

For  Omar  who  lived  at  Naishapiir  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
eleventh  century,  we  know  not  how  much  he  knew  of  Anacreon  or 
of  the  Greek  Anthology.  But  FitzGerald,  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge 
in  the  nineteenth  century  and  translator  of  Aeschylus  and  Sophocles, 
was  probably  familiar  with  all  the  masterpieces  of  Greek  literature. 

Consider  first,  the  following  quatrain  from  the  first  edition  of 
the  "Rubaiyat." 

First  Ed.  XI 

"Here  with  a  loaf  of  Bread  beneath  the  Bough, 
A  Flask  of  Wine,  a  Book  of  Verse — and  Thou 

Beside  me  singing  in  the  Wilderness — 

And  Wilderness  is  Paradise  enow."  , 


/  A  Q 


620 


Or  the  more  sophisticated  version  in  the  edition  of  1879 : 

Fourth  Ed.  XII 

"A  Book  of  Verses  underneath  the  Bough, 

A  Jug  of  Wine,  a  Loaf  of  Bread — and  Thou 
Beside  me  singing  in  the  Wilderness — 

Oh,  Wilderness  were  Paradise  enow." 

Let  us  turn  from  the  literal  translation  of  Omar,  by  Mr.  Eben 
Francis  Thompson,  whose  immortality  will  never  be  interfered 
with,  by  any  edict  of  Theodosius  of  St.  Gregory : 

"A  skin  of  red  wine  I  wish  and  book  of  poesy 
A  bare  subsistence  is  necessary  and  a  half  loaf 

And  then  I  and  thou  sitting  in  the  solitude 

Were  sweeter  than  the  empire  of  the  Sultan." 

Now  here  is  a  fragment  of  Anacreon,  done  into  literal  English : 

"I  breakfasted,  by  cutting  off  a  part  of  a  thin  piece 
of  barley  cake;  I  emptied  out  a  jug  of  wine  (the  Greek 
indicates  that  it  was  a  pretty  large  jug)  and  now  tenderly 
I  touch  the  harp  of  love,  companioning  in  revelry,  a  tender 
and  charming  girl." 

QUOTE:  Anacreon  13 

Anthologia  Lyrica,  Page  221. 
Or  to  translate  more  freely : 

"I  broke  my  fast  on  barley  cake; 

I  drained  a  stoup  of  wine, 
Merrily  now  my  lute  shall  make 

For  thee,  sweet  girl  of  mine, 
Love's  music,  sweeter  for  thy  sake 
And  all  its  charms  are  thine." 

There  are  obvious  differences  between  the  two  selections.  The 
girl  sings  to  Omar,  whereas  Anacreon  plays  to  the  girl;  but  both 
poets  have  part  of  the  loaf  and  the  jug  of  wine  and  the  girl.  So 
far  as  Anacreon  is  concerned,  Theodosius  and  St.  Gregory  have 
unfortunately  made  further  comparison  impossible. 


Other  excerpts,  consisting  of  certain  comments  on  Anacreon, 
I  have  taken  from  the  SEPULCHRAL  EPIGRAMS  of  the  GREEK 
ANTHOLOGY.  You  are  all  familiar  with  Omar's  feeling  of 
kindred  with  those  who  have  gone  before,  how  poignant  his  com- 
passion for  all  who  are  underneath  the  sod,  how  haunting  his 
prescience  of  the  time  when  he  too  shall  join  them : 

First  Ed.  XXIII 

"Ah,  make  the  most  of  what  we  yet  may  spend, 
Before  we  too  into  the  Dust  descend, 

Dust  into  Dust,  and  under  Dust,  to  lie, 
Sans  Wine,  sans  Song,  sans  Singer,  and  sans  End." 

Sixteen  hundred  years  before  Omar,  Anacreon  had  played 
variations  upon  the  same  theme;  and  for  five  hundred  years  there- 
after, he  and  his  poems  had  afforded  inspiration  for  his  admirers. 

{8.  E.  33  GREEK  ANTHOLOGY,  Vol.  2,  Page  22) 
Q :  "  You  died  of  wine,  Anacreon  ? ' ' 

A  :  :,  ^  Ah,  but  you 

Who  never  drank,  must  enter  Hades,  too." 

wrote  Julianus,  Prefect  of  Egypt,  in  the  days  of  Justinian.  This 
fin  de  siecle  poet  has  another  Epigram  which  comes  even  closer  to 
the  spirit  of  the  quatrain  just  quoted. 

{8.  E.  32  GREEK  ANTHOLOGY,  Vol.  2,  Page  22) 
"Oft  above  ground  I  sang,  now  underneath; 
'  Drink  ere  ye  too  put  on  the  dust  of  death '. ' ' 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  unrivalled  verses  near  the  end  of  Fitz- 
Gerald's  First  Edition  of  the  RUBAIYAT  (1859)  LXII  and 
LXIII ; 

First  Ed.  LXVII—LXVIII 

"Ah,  with  the  Grape  my  fading  Life  provide 
And  wash  my  Body  whence  the  Life  has  died, 

And  in  the  Winding  sheet  of  Vine-leaf  wrapt. 
So  bury  me  by  some  sweet  Garden-side." 


"That  ev'n  my  buried  Ashes  such  a  Snare 
Of  Perfume  shall  fling  up  into  the  Air, 

As  not  a  True  Believer  passing  by 

But  shall  be  overtaken  unaware." 

1  append  Mr,  Thompson's  literal  translation: 
"Take  care  to  nourish  me  with  the  wine  cup, 

And  this  face  of  amber  like  rubies  make 
When  I  die,  wash  me  with  wine 

And  from  the  wood  of  the  vine  the  planks  of  my  coffin  make." 

"So  much  will  I  drink  wine  that  this  fragrance  of  wine 
Comes  from  the  clay  when  I  go  under  the  clay 

That  when  a  drinker  passes  over  my  clay 

From  the  scent  of  my  wine  he  shall  become  drunk  and  lost." 
{i.  e.  dead  drunk) 

Now  here  is  a  literal  translation  of  an  Epitaph  on  Anacreon, 
by  ANTIPATER  OF  SIDON  (1st  Century  B.  C.)  who  wrote  in 
the  Hellenistic  Age,  when  the  mightier  harmonies  of  Greek  litera- 
ture still  echoed  in  men's  ears. 

{S.  E.  23  Vol.  2,  Page  17) 

"Let  the  four-clustered  ivy,  Anacreon,  flourish  round  thee, 
and  the  tender  flowers  of  the  purple  meadows,  and  let  fountains  of 
white  milk  bubble  up,  and  sweet  smelling  wine  gush  from  the  earth, 
so  that  thy  ashes  and  bones  may  have  joy,  if  indeed  any  delight 
touches  the  dead." 

Or,  take  the  literal  translation  of  some  exquisite  lines,  ascribed 
to  SIMONIDES,  a  contemporary  and  friend  of  Anacreon : 

SHIONIDES,  Page  17,  No.  24. 
"Oh  vine  who  smoothest  all,  nurse  of  wine,  mother  of  the 
grape,  thou  who  dost  put  forth  thy  web  of  curling  tendrils,  flourish 
green  in  the  fine  soil  and  climb  up  the  pillar  of  the  grave  of  TEIAN 
ANACREON;  that  he,  the  reveller  heavy  with  wine,  playing  all 
through  the  night  on  his  lyre,  may  even  as  he  lies  in  earth  have  the 
glorious  ripe  clusters  hanging  from  the  branches  over  his  head, 
and  that  he  may  be  ever  steeped  in  the  dew  that  scented  the  old 
man's  lips  so  sweetly." 


Here  are  free  translations  of  both  of  these  passages: 

First,  Antipater: 

"Now  shall  the  clustered  ivy  wrap  thee  round, 
Frail  flowers  in  purple  meadows  that  abound, 

For  thee  shall  bloom;  for  thee  white  springs  of  milk 

And  fragrant  wine  gush  from  the  fruitful  ground." 

' '  That  even  thy  buried  ashes  may  be  blessed ; 

And  the  sweet  savor  from  that  vintage  pressed. 
May  reach  thee  in  the  regions  of  the  dead. 

If  any  joy  can  rouse  thee  from  thy  rest." 

Second,  Simonides: 

"Glad  vine,  that  makes  Mankind  forget  their  doom, 
Mother  of  wine,  and  Autumn 's  clustered  bloom ! 

Stretch  thy  green  tendrils  from  the  fostering  earth 
And  climb  the  column  of  Anacreon's  tomb." 

"His  genial  song  was  thine.     Thy  clusters  now 
Hang  o'er  his  head  from  each  luxuriant  bough, 

Steeping  his  ashes  in  thy  perfumed  dews. 

Whose  fragrance  did  alive  his  lips  endow." 

If  we  turn  back  to  Mr.  Thompson's  literal  translation  of  these 
verses  of  Omar,  we  shall  find  no  mention  of  growing  things  or  of 
any  verdure  at  all.  On  the  other  hand,  FitzGerald  pictures  Omar 
"in  winding  sheet  of  vine-leaf  wrapt"  or  as  "shrouded  in  the 
living  leaf."  He  locates  the  grave,  "by  some  not  unfrequented 
garden-side."  In  the  original  Omar,  there  is  no  mention  of  the 
living  leaf  or  of  the  garden  but  verdure  and  fruits  and  flowers  are 
described  in  the  Elegiacs  of  the  Greek  poets.  Moreover,  the  original 
RUBAIYAT  speak  of  a  "coffin"  and  of  "clay."  There  is  no  men- 
tion of  the  "buried  ashes"  which  are  found  both  in  FitzGerald  and 
in  the  Greek. 

Let  us  turn  to  one  more  passage  where  there  is  no  close  parallel 
except  in  the  spirit  of  the  verse.  I  do  not  think  I  need  take  up 
your  time  with  a  literal  translation : 


Fourth  Ed.  XXXIX 

"And  not  a  drop  that  from  our  cups  we  throw 

For  Earth  to  drink  of,  but  may  steal  below 
To  quench  the  fire  of  Anguish  in  some  Eye, 

There  hidden — far  beneath  and  long  ago." 

In  a  note  on  these  lines,  FitzGerald  expatiates  on  the  Persian 
custom  of  "throwing  a  little  wine  on  the  ground  after  drinking." 
During  his  discussion  these  words  occur :  "is  it  not  more  likely  an 
ancient  Superstition ;  a  Libation  to  propitiate  Earth,  or  make  her 
an  Accomplice  in  the  illicit  Revel  ?  Or,  perhaps,  to  divert  the  Jeal- 
ous Eye  by  some  sacrifice  of  superfluity,  as  with  the  Ancients  of  the 
West  ?  With  Omar,  we  see  something  more  is  signified ;  the  precious 
Liquor  is  not  lost,  but  sinks  into  the  ground  to  refresh  the  dust  of 
some  poor  Wine-worshipper  foregone." 

Did  not  FitzGerald  know  that  the  "Ancients  of  the  West" 
strike  precisely  the  same  note  as  he  and  Omar  struck  in  this  quat- 
rain ?    Here  are  two  instances : — ^the  first  probably  very  late  Greek : 

{8.  E.  28  Vol.  2,  Page  20) 

"0  passerby,  upon  my  tomb  be  thine 

To  pour  libations;  Still  I  love  good  wine." 

The  second  is  by  ANTIPATER  OF  SIDON.  My  translation 
in  even  more  free  than  usual: 

{8.  E.  26  Vol.  2,  Page  18) 
"Good  friend,  who  would  my  tomb  with  tear  drops  lave, 

If  once  to  thee,  my  books  brief  solace  gave, 
Pour  on  my  ashes  one  small  drop  of  wine 

That  I  rejoice,  within  the  silent  grave." 

"That  I,  who  the  bright  days  of  life  would  spend 
In  song,  and  wine,  rejoicing  with  a  friend, 

In  this  dim  region  may  not  wholly  mourn. 
Where  all  must  dwell  together  without  end." 

In  general  it  seems  to  me  that  between  the  original  Omar  and 
FitzGerald 's  translations,  there  is  one  capital  difference.  Even  in 
those  passages  of  Mr.  Thompson's  rendition  of  Omar,  which  make 


no  pretense  to  be  anything  but  word  for  word  translations,  it  seems 
to  me  that  we  get  a  certain  tang  that  we  do  not  get  in  FitzGerald. 
The  original  Persian  vintage,  though  none  the  less  subtle,  is  strong- 
er, sharper,  more  concentrated;  it  has  more  thrust,  more  daring, 
to  use  a  slang  expression,  more  "kick,"  than  the  RUBAIYAT  with 
which  we  are  familiar.  On  the  other  hand,  FitzGerald 's  is  a  sweet- 
er, gentler  vintage,  a  little  more  mellow.  What  it  lacks  in  strength 
it  makes  up  perhaps  in  exquisiteness. 

Please  do  not  mistake  my  purpose.  I  realize  the  subject  is  be- 
yond the  reach  of  my  imperfect  scholarship.  But  somebody  may 
sometime  arise  who  is  qualified  to  prove  what  I  have  hinted  at, 
namely,  that  Omar  himself,  especially  in  his  amatory  and  mortuary 
passages,  was,  in  his  wild  eastern  way,  voicing  traditions  which  had 
been  handed  down  by  the  Greek  lyric  poets  notably  by  Anacreon; 
and  secondly  that  Edward  FitzGerald,  through  his  peculiar  temper- 
ament and  sensibilities,  by  reason  of  the  thoroughness  of  his  classi- 
cal training  and  the  greater  sophistication  of  the  age  in  which  he 
lived,  sometimes  in  his  translations  of  the  RUBAIYAT,  approached 
more  nearly  to  the  soul  of  Ancient  Greece,  than  to  the  soul  of  Omar. 

THE  END 


J 


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